An Addiction to Evensong

I am addicted to Evensong at Magdalen College (pronounced Maudlin here in Oxford). I had been to Evening Vespers once in the U.S., which was absolutely beautiful and so peaceful I almost fell asleep. Evensong is very similar but distinctly different as well (beyond one being Catholic and the other Anglican).

At Magdalen, the chapel is a long rectangular shape, with a wall of statues of the saints and a beautiful portrait of Christ’s crucifixion at the far end and an organ towering over the entrance way. Dark wooden benches line the two long sides of the chapel, about four levels going up, with shelfs in front that hold the Book of Common Prayer, hymnal, and guide to the service. Candles light each person’s place, and there are little cushions for kneeling at one’s feet. In front of the entrance, there is an Eagle podium where the readings take place (it looks like the eagle podium that Dumbledore uses in the dining hall in Harry Potter—because the podium he uses is at the dining hall at Christ Church College in Oxford, and the eagle podiums are at most colleges in Oxford, from what I’ve seen).

So I hope you are picturing a long, dark room with a majestic atmosphere, a sense of calm and quiet hanging in the air, with the ornate architecture and fixtures creating history and richness in the room. The choir walks in at the beginning of Evensong, consisting of something like twenty Magdalen college male students and 20 young boys that attend the Magdalen prep school. On different nights of the week, just the older students sing, just the young boys sing, and when I went this weekend, Magdalen College female students joined the Magdalen College male students to sing. So overall, the Magdalen College male choir is the standard, with different additions on different nights of the week. They wear red and white robes and walk slowly into the room, bowing before climbing to their seats. The choir splits in two and faces each other on opposite sides of the chapel, with the director standing between conducting.

The service itself includes prayer, two readings, one or a few psalms sung by the choir, several hymns and prayers sung by the choir, and intercessions by the priest. I usually walk in and peace immediately washes over me. The organ creates a base for the voices that build upon it. The choir brings new joy to the same psalms I’ve read before; their nuanced singing of scripture enriches the verses to how they should sound as opposed to how I sometimes take them for granted or rush over them. Each “Amen” sung by the choir is unique, some low and still, some rising to a crescendo, some layered with rounds. I’ve thought many a time that if I could just listen to them sing Amen to me all day long, I’d be in heaven. Each time they finish singing a hymn or prayer or psalm, the air sort of vibrates with the lack of sound, in seeming appreciation for the heavenly voices that had filled it a second before.

Altogether the service takes about half an hour to forty-five minutes. It takes me away from books, libraries, essays, traffic, worries, grocery shopping, the dreaded dollar-to-pound conversion rate, stress—everything. I typically go once a week, sometimes two or three times. I know Evensong will be one of my most missed Oxford activities when I return home. But I still have a long time to enjoy it for now. Which is wonderful, because I’m addicted, remember?